Beautiful Silence
by PinguThePenguin
Summary: In his third year at Erebor University, Thorin Oakenshield meets the new deaf student Bilbo Baggins and his protective interpreter, Bofur. Thorin find's himself drawn to Bilbo, but he soon finds out that it's not good when the translator of someone you like doesn't like you very much. So he enrolls in a sign language course, much to Bofur's discontent. Thilbo! One-sided Bilbo/Bofur
1. An Embarrassing Introduction

**Author's Note: **This is my first Hobbit Fanfic that I'm posting. I'm almost finished with another one, but this one will be in chapters, so this is what I'm posting first.

P.S. I'm sorry it's probably not very good, but please give it a try!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything pertaining to The Hobbit or anything that is in affiliation to The Hobbit. I only took names and made a plotline.

_**Beautiful Silence**_

Thorin sighed grumpily as he made his way into the University Library. He had always hated going in there. The smell was always a bit strange. The scent of old book pages and dusty book covers wafted through the room and up his nostrils, making him cringe. It was a terrible smell to him. Especially since it reminded him of the essay he had gone there to work on. An essay on the history of Erebor University, which just so happened to be the University he was attending. The history professor thought it would be 'fun' to write an essay over the history of the University to get to know where you would be for the next three or four years, even though most people in his class, including Thorin, had already been there for two years. But none of the students agreed with him that it was fun. And the professor happily didn't care.

Thorin walked about the library, looking for where the history section might be located. As he walked, he noticed that the library was practically deserted, save the librarian and this one person sitting at a table, staring at a blank piece of paper with a pencil in his hand. He looked to be thinking very hard. He almost made it look like a painful process. Thorin just laughed.

He passed the table with the stranger, who didn't look up from his paper or even flinch as he walked past. Thorin went down a random isle of books he chose and scanned the book titles. Unfortunately, they were all fiction books. Not non-fiction. With a roll of his eyes and growl of annoyance, he brushed back some of his longish black hair from his face, and moved on to another isle. After a quick examination, he found that those were also fiction.

His dark blue eyes narrowed. The patience he had reserved for this history assignment was wearing thin. All he wanted to do was get the essay done and over with. Sure it was due at the end of the week, but he figured it wouldn't be so bad if he got it finished as quickly as possible. But at this rate, he wasn't even going to find a book to help him. Maybe he could just call his father. He did kind of own the University. And while some would consider it cheating, Thorin would just call it 'taking advantage of his resources'.

As he passed another isle, he started to think about whether he should find the librarian and ask for help in finding the history section, but the thought was promptly pushed from his mind. He was sure he could find it himself if he just kept looking. Though the library was quite large, there couldn't be that many sections between him and the history section. He just kept his eyes peeled for any books with titles that seemed like history books. But to no avail.

After about almost an hour of searching, he was ready to give up. Time that could have been spent calling his father had been well-wasted searching a library for history books. The tiny bit of hope he had in the library had been crushed by his own terrible navigation skills. He could have sworn he had gotten lost in the maze of shelves at least twice.

He had just been about to turn around and never return to that cursed library, when a flash of auburn caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. Turning back to the isle he had just passed, he looked down it and saw an auburn, curly haired person there; inspecting the shelves with extremely focused and determined eyes that were a shocking color of green. Thorin watched as the boy suddenly smiled widely and pulled a book out from the shelf and opened it. His eyes scanned the pages quickly and Thorin thought for a moment he was going to start reading the book in the middle of the isle. But instead, his eyes looked over a couple of pages and flipped further into the book and looked over a couple of new pages.

Thorin stood for a moment, gazing at the boy longer than he deemed appropriate, and shook his head roughly to gain his attentions back to the situation at hand. Maybe that boy could help him. His back was now turned to Thorin, but that didn't stop Thorin from thinking that this boy possibly knew his way around the library pretty well, even for the first week of the new term. He didn't even remember ever seeing or meeting a boy with curly hair and green eyes. But the thought rushed out of his mind as he steadily approached the boy. It was a shock to see how short he turned out to be. He only seemed to come to Thorin's chin.

Thorin stood behind the boy for a moment before clearing his throat to get his attention. But there was no response. Perhaps he was too immersed in the book to hear him? So Thorin cleared his throat again, but it was to no avail. "Excuse me?" Thorin asked out loud as politely as possible when he was in such a foul mood to begin with. But still, there was nothing. The boy did not turn around, nor acknowledge his presence in any way. Thorin's eyes narrowed once more that day and finally losing it, he reached forward and roughly grabbed the boy's arm and spun him around, causing the book in his hands to drop to the floor.

He never was good with temper control.

Thorin was lost for words for a moment as he stared into the strangers eyes. They were wide with fear, like a dear in headlights, but were also a sparkling green that was very pleasant to look at. His mouth was hanging open a bit in surprise, but no words were escaping. He just stood there with Thorin's hand firmly grasping his arm with a small pink tinge flowing to his cheeks. But after a second, Thorin spoke once more. "I've been trying to get your attention for the last three minutes! Who are you to ignore me! I just needed to ask a simple question, and I would've been out of your way! Would that be so hard for you?" he exclaimed to the boy's face, a little louder than he'd wanted to.

The boy only continued to stand there, eyes darting around the place nervously, working hard to look anywhere but at Thorin. He was even shaking a bit. Thorin could feel it in his grasp on his arm. But he convinced himself not worry about it. Instead, he focused on the fact that the boy was still not responding to him. With a low growl of anger, he tightened his grip on the boy's arm, making him wince in pain, but there was still no sound. At least, not from him.

"Oi!" There came an angry shout from the opposite end of the isle. "What do you think you're doing?" Thorin turned away from the now visibly shaking boy in his hold, to see the stranger he had seen earlier at the table, storming up to him with clenched fists, narrowed eyes, and a brisk pace. In other words, he was positively seething. Thorin never released his grip though. Not until the stranger was standing right next to him, looking him straight in the eye. "Let go of him." he ground out through his teeth with flashing hazel eyes.

Thorin glanced back at the boy before him, who was still staring at him with those fearful eyes. With a huff of defeat, Thorin decided he wasn't going to get in a fight over something as ridiculous as this, and let go of the boy's arm. As soon as he did so, the boy crouched to pick up his book and backed up quickly next to the second stranger, whose arms were now crossed over his chest. "Good." The stranger with dark brown hair said shortly. "Now what happened?" he asked with the same tone.

"I was only trying to get his attention, but he was ignoring me." Thorin explained. It actually sounded ridiculous when he said it out loud, but it was the truth. And was never good with thinking on his feet so he had nothing else to say. But the back of his mind nagged about how what transpired was none of this persons business. But it was too late to not say anything.

The brown haired stranger rolled his eyes. "Are you an idiot?" he asked rhetorically, narrowing the eyes once again. "If he can't hear you the first time you call for him, you should at least get some idea of his condition!"

Thorin raised an eyebrow at the statement. His eyes glanced over at the short boy once again. What condition? He seemed perfectly healthy. "What are you raving about?" Thorin spoke after a moment.

Another roll of the eyes. "Can't you tell?" the stranger asked, with a mix of exasperation and impatience. "He's deaf!"

And was the first time in a long time that Thorin ever felt truly embarrassed. How could he not have seen it? Now that he actually thought about it, it had been fairly obvious. How would anyone not hear a voice that was speaking right behind them if they weren't deaf? He wanted to slap himself. It was one of the stupidest things he had ever done in his life. And they boy looked so scared, too. He was going to apologize, but the stranger was already turned away from him, waving his arms around in front of the boy. Thorin knew it had to be sign language. When his movements ceased, the boy only timidly nodded his head. The brown-haired one signed again, and then the short one left the isle like there was a fire.

"Look," Thorin began as the stranger turned back to him. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize. I've just had a bad day and I lost my temper. I would like to apologize to him."

"Well, too bad you can't." the other retaliated in a condescending voice. "Because in case you still don't get it, he can't hear you!" Thorin was about to leave in exasperation once again before the stranger began again. "Unless… I told him for you." He sounded reluctant. "What's your name?" he added, though he still didn't sound very friendly.

"Thorin." He replied coolly. "Thorin Oakenshield. Yours?"

"Bofur." The former replied, not even bothering with giving his last name. "And _his_ name," he added jerking his thumb over his shoulder where his friend had escaped a moment ago. "is Bilbo Baggins. And he's been a friend of mine since we were real young." His tone darkened more. "So I don't appreciate it when anyone manhandles him like that. Understand?"

Thorin wanted to tell Bofur that he wasn't a very threatening person and that all he wanted to do was apologize, but he didn't feel up to an argument. "May I just go and apologize now?" he evaded answering the question, finding it to be tedious.

Bofur rolled his eyes for a third time, dropping his hands back down to his sides. "Fine. Follow me." He complied.

The walk to the table where Bilbo was at was a short and silent one. It seemed that both of them were eager to leave each other's company but knew that for Bilbo's sake, they had to deal with one another for a few minutes longer. Bilbo was writing down notes from the book he had picked up earlier, moving his head back and forth between his paper and the large book so fast, Thorin was afraid he was going to give himself whiplash. Bofur went straight up to Bilbo with a smile and tapped him lightly on the shoulder to get his attention. Bilbo pulled his head away from his notes, instantly smiling when he saw Bofur standing above him. Thorin had to admit that the smile was rather cute.

Bofur then turned back to Thorin and said, "Just say what you want to say to him, and I'll sign it back to him." unsurprisingly nonchalant, smile dropped from his face.

Thorin was about to speak when he saw Bilbo staring at him again, sinking down in his seat a bit. Trying to convince him he wasn't dangerous, Thorin smiled apologetically. With a shifting gaze, Bilbo sat up again just a bit straighter, but was now looking expectantly at Bofur who was glaring at Thorin for smiling at Bilbo.

"I'm very sorry I scared you." Thorin began, never moving his gaze from Bilbo, who was watching Bofur's arms move around, following Thorin's words. "I didn't realize that you were deaf, and I admit, I feel like an idiot." Bofur smirked at that, but continued translating. "I hope you will forgive me." He finished. Bofur finished his signing as well, and watched for Bilbo's reply.

Bilbo looked back at Thorin again, but this time not with fear. Instead, he was smiling shyly and the pink tinge in his cheeks that Thorin saw earlier came back again. He lifted his hands just above the table and started moving them around, still looking at Thorin as though he could understand what the signs meant.

"He said you're forgiven, and that whatever you wanted earlier, you can ask or say now." Bofur translated, talking as if he was bored with the subject. The tone was doing nothing for Thorin's bad day.

"I wanted to know where the history section is." Thorin explained, leaning on the table easily. "I have a history paper to write already and I want to get it done."

"It's at the back right corner." Bofur explained, not even bothering to translate Thorin's question, seeing as he could answer it on his own.

Thorin raised an eyebrow at the quick response, but got up from the table nonetheless. He waved goodbye to Bilbo, who, in return, waved back with that pretty smile he wore since he apologized.

By the time he had reached the history section and found a book that would aide him with his paper sufficiently, Thorin found he could no longer concentrate on writing it. His thought process had been yanked to a stop ever since he apologized. He felt bad for scaring the poor boy so badly and now he could think of nothing but Bilbo. For some reason, Thorin felt… drawn to him. Even if they couldn't communicate properly, Thorin wanted to talk to Bilbo anyway. But the only way they could talk, would be through Bofur, and Bofur didn't seem to like him. That much was obvious. So, there was only one way that he and Bilbo could ever talk to each other alone. And that was how he found himself on the phone with his father instead of working on his paper.

"A language course?" his father sounded genuinely shocked.

Thorin sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yes, father. I want to know what language courses we have?" he clarified for the second time.

"Well… we have many of course. But I never thought you would be interested in them." He father began, almost hesitantly. "But if you're really curious, we have Spanish, French, German, Japanese-"

"Do we have sign?" Thorin interrupted, growing impatient.

There was a pause on the line. "Sign?" his father repeated, stunned. "Why on Earth do you want to learn sign language?"

Thorin froze. What was he supposed to say? If he said he met deaf person and he wanted to learn sign language because he wanted to talk to him, his father would surely be suspicious. And if his father was suspicious, then he had ways of keeping tabs on his kids. His sister was watched closely when she went to University, and even more so when she started dating in University. Thankfully, Thorin had always had his father's full trust, and was able to avoid being watched his first year at University. But now… "I was just thinking that… it would be useful later in life. You never know when you'll need it." He lied smoothly. Well, as smoothly as he could.

His father paused again. "Well… I believe we do give a course for sign language, but looking at the registrations, not many people are taking the class." Another pause. "And there is no one you know in there either. Are you sure that the only reason you're taking this class is because it may be useful?"

"Yes, father!" Thorin nearly shouted into the phone. "I don't care who is taking the class, just get me in it! I still have that free period to use up, don't I?"

"Yes, I suppose you do." His father went silent for a long time after that, but Thorin could hear the typing on a keyboard and the clicks of a computer mouse. "I'll transfer you in to the class, but you'll be a day late into the lessons. You won't have missed much, I'm sure, but still…"

"I don't mind." Thorin interrupted, sighing in relief. "Juts enter me in, and call me later, so I can know when I start the class."

"Alright. And Thorin," his father added before Thorin could hang up. "we just had a deaf student and his interpreter in your year transfer here. This wouldn't have anything to do with him, would it?" his father's voice seemed to have taken a slightly darker tone to it.

Thorin's eyes widened as he hastened to think of a response. "We had a deaf student transfer?" he faked ignorance. "I didn't even know that."

There was a deafening silence between the two before Thorin's father finally spoke again. "I'll transfer you to the class and call you back later. Goodbye." And the beeping through the phone said he had hung up.

Thorin slumped against the bookshelves. That was probably the most stupid thing he had ever done. Entering a whole new class only to communicate with one person? But this wasn't just any person, Thorin told himself as he deemed the library boring and left back to his dorm. Bilbo seemed so interesting, and Thorin wanted to make up for scaring him so bad. Sure it had been a huge impulse decision, but if he went out on I now, then his father would be even more suspicious. Thror had always been overly watchful of his family, and wanted them to be entirely dignified and valued in society. That was why when Thorin's sister, Dis, went to University, Thror kept a watchful eye on her and her boyfriend. But it turned out, he wasn't careful enough, and Dis got pregnant around the end of her final year. Thankfully she was able to finish school and marry before she had the baby, but the gist was all the same. It had taken years for Thror to forgive her, and even after that, Dis announced that she was pregnant once more.

Thorin couldn't even remember how old he was when his nephews, Fili and Kili were born. He only remembered that he was actually fairly young. By the time he went to his first year of University, Fili was getting a drivers permit, and Kili was just starting high school. But Thorin had waited a couple of years to go to University, so he was still fairly older. They even came to visit him sometimes.

But today was not one of those days. Instead, when Thorin arrived back at his dorm, he found himself alone, just like most of the time. He sighed and threw his bag on the floor and then a realization made him slap himself in the face.

He forgot to find a history book.

_**Please Review!**_


	2. A Memory and Strong Thoughts

**Author's Note: **Sorry, but this chapter is a bit angsty, but only for a little while!

This chapter, we get to see a bit of backstory between Bofur and Bilbo. Not much, but you get to see the story of how they first met, and started talking! Hope you enjoy!

IMPORTANT!  
'One quotation mark is signing or thinking'  
"Two quotation marks is talking"

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything pertaining to The Hobbit or anything that is in affiliation to The Hobbit. I only took names and made a plotline.

Bofur smiled as he watched Bilbo stretch his arms up to the high cabinet in their apartment. He had been trying to get the teabags out for about five minutes, but the shelf was just higher than he could reach. But even so, Bilbo seemed beyond asking for help, and then resorted to hopping up and down, reaching as high as he could, but it was to no avail.

Bofur always found Bilbo's determination to do things he obviously couldn't adorable, but sometimes a bit frustrating. The boy was just so stubborn that he would only get help if someone offered it to him. Even then, he would be reluctant. It was like he was ashamed that he couldn't do some simple things. When they were young, Bilbo constantly apologized about having to put subtitles on the T.V. show or movie they were watching, but Bofur would always wave if off with a smile. He never minded having to change his ways for Bilbo. In fact, he was barely even changing his ways! He and Bilbo had known each other since they were little, and were inseparable through all their school years. He still remembered when they first officially started being friends.

_When in elementary school, Bofur would always ask the teacher why Bilbo had to sit in the back of the room with some stranger making gestures at him. The teacher would always reply, "You're too young to understand, dear," and send him away. But Bofur was determined to figure out the mystery, and for a few weeks, Bofur found himself staring at the two in the back corner of the classroom, the woman making gestures and pausing every now and then, and Bilbo looking very confused. _

'_He almost looks like he's learning a new language,' Bofur thought as Bilbo moved his hands slowly, following the woman's movements. The woman would smile and give him two thumbs up, and Bilbo's smile would brighten his face. Finally, Bofur decided to go to his mother about it._

"_Mom?" He asked in the car on the way home from school. "There's a boy in my class, and every day he has to go to the back of the room with some strange lady, and they move their hands around all day. Do you have any idea what they're doing?" he looked hopefully at his mom, who was focused solely on the road._

_His mother's smile faltered, though she kept her eyes on the road as she answered. "Well, dear," she began. "have they ever told you in school about some children needing… special kinds of education?"_

_Bofur was confused. "Special? What do you mean? Who would need special education? What's wrong with the regular education?" he asked leaning forward in his seat._

_His mother heaved a sigh. "Well, some kids can be born with certain… difficulties in their bodies or minds that could sometimes make regular education feel extremely difficult to them. For example," she glanced over her shoulder at her son, to make sure he was paying attention. "Do you know what it means to be blind?" at the shake of Bofur's head she saw in the rearview mirror, she explained. "Well, when you're blind, it means that your vision doesn't work. All you see when you open your eyes is black."_

"_That's it?" Bofur asked, shocked. "But how would you read? You can't see the words on the page!" he lifted his hands to his own eyes as if to make sure they still worked._

_His mother chuckled a bit and continued. "They invented a writing system for the blind long ago, so they, just like everybody else, could read. It's called Braille." Bofur was confused again. "Braille letters are a series of dots that poke out of pages or whatever surface it's written on so that the blind can run their finger across the dots, and _feel_ the letters, and then they know what it says."_

"_Oh, I get it!" Bofur exclaimed, deliriously happy. "But I'm pretty sure the boy in class can see fine! He looks at the lady he's with all the time, and follows her around too!" he added._

"_That was only an example, sweetie." She laughed. "Braille wasn't the only system of communication made for the disabled. They also made sign language for the deaf. Being deaf means you can't hear, so they made a system of hand gestures to communicate with, instead of words. That is what the boy in your class is probably learning." She finished._

_Bofur went to sleep that night thinking about the deaf boy in his class. He really couldn't hear? Anything? Not music, not people, not even himself? He was finding it to be very hard to take in. He barely found any sleep that night, thinking about the poor boy that could never even hear his own voice. _

_The next day, during recess, Bofur approached the strange lady and Bilbo. "Hi there!" he said, hoping the lady would know he was addressing the boy and not her. "My name's Bofur!" he waved enthusiastically to Bilbo, who looked more confused than he did in class sometimes._

_The woman stared down at Bofur for a second or two, before a warm smile stretched across her face. She tapped Bilbo on the shoulder and once he looked up to her, she started to move her hands slowly around, so Bilbo would catch all of it. Once she put her hands back down to her sides, Bilbo turned back to Bofur but instead looked very surprised. But that soon washed away into a shy smile and he waved back to Bofur with his head turned slightly down, hiding his flushed cheeks._

The memory was broken at that point by a startling crash that came from where Bilbo was reaching for the teabags. Bofur laughed as he saw a plastic bowl rolling around on the floor at Bilbo's feet. Bilbo himself looked angrily down at the bowl with his arms crossed as if he was blaming it for making him so short.

It was at that time that Bofur deemed it appropriate to get up and help Bilbo with the teabags. He came up behind his friend and gently moved him out of the way. Ignoring Bilbo's glare, he easily reached up and pulled the box of teabags off the shelf and, with a smile, handed them to Bilbo, who was pouting like an injured puppy. Bofur always found that adorable too. He closed the cabinets and watched as Bilbo went and set the kettle on the stove and began to boil the water. When satisfied with himself, Bilbo looked over to Bofur and signed. 'I could have done it myself!' He paused for a second. '… Eventually.'

Bofur laughed and signed back. 'You couldn't reach it hopping up and down! You needed help! It's not like it's the end of the world!' he moved closer to Bilbo who was glancing back and forth between the teapot and Bofur.

Bilbo rolled his eyes, but nonetheless, a small smile formed on his face. 'Then thank you… I guess.' He signed after a moment.

'You are most welcome!' Bofur replied, ending it with a large bow. Bilbo's shoulders shook in a silent laugh and he shook his head back and forth, turning back to his teapot. But something caught Bofur's eye when Bilbo removed the jacket he was wearing. On his arm was a purplish bruise that looked very sore and painful. The sight of it alone made Bofur sneer in disdain. That was where Oakenshield had grabbed him earlier that day. Without thought, he marched right up to Bilbo and tapped on his shoulder. 'Does that bruise hurt?' he signed once Bilbo was looking at him. Bilbo gave him a confused stare until Bofur gestured toward his arm.

Bilbo's eyes widened when they caught sight of the bruise, like he hadn't even known it was there. 'No, I can barely feel it.' He replied. 'It's fine! It'll get better over night!'

Bofur couldn't stop glaring at nothing. 'I can't believe that guy just grabbed you like that! He was being an absolute moron!'

Bilbo rolled his eyes again. 'Don't be so mean, Bofur. At least he apologized! He looked sincere to me!'

'He could have been pretending!' Bofur crossed his arms over his chest and continued to glare off into the distance.

Bilbo placed his hands on his hips for a moment, before grabbing Bofur by the head and forced him to look meet his eyes. 'I know you mean well, Bofur,' he began. 'But I'm sure that he was really sorry. He looked very upset when he came up to me with you, so I think he really meant it! Don't worry about it, alright?' he finished, looking for Bofur's response.

Bofur looked down at Bilbo for what felt like an eternity. He felt the green eyes piercing into his brain, and trying to read his thoughts. The glare had, by this point, softened into a regretful expression. 'I'm sorry.' He signed, thankful that Bilbo's eyes alone could wash away the anger. 'I got carried away.'

At Bilbo's smile, Bofur leaned forward and enveloped him in a tight embrace that felt warm and soft. "I just want to keep you safe from those bastards in the world." He admitted aloud, burying his nose into Bilbo's curly hair. He knew Bilbo couldn't hear, but he had to say it out loud. He had to get it off his chest. "I don't want anyone to hurt you more than you've already been hurt." He lowered his hand to rub Bilbo's back gently, as he felt Bilbo's arms wrap around his own back. "I know you could take care of yourself, but I can't help wanting to protect you." He leaned away and smiled warmly at Bilbo, who smiled brightly back.

A beeping noise emanating from Bofur's watch suddenly wrenched him out of his Bilbo-induced trance. He glanced down at his wrist to see that it was five o' clock. 'Sorry!' he signed, and grabbed his jacket from the couch. 'It's time for me to go to work. Are you going to come with me?'

Bilbo thought for a moment and finally shook his head. 'I'll just wait for the tea to finish and drink that.' He signed, glancing back at the teapot.

Bofur smiled and ruffled the curly hair of his friend. 'Alright. I'll see you later then!' And Bofur headed out the door. He was a bit reluctant to leave while Bilbo was making tea. Sure he had done it before, but Bilbo could sometimes get distracted and forget to check the teapot. He almost set the apartment on fire once. Thankfully, nothing had happened, but they did have to go shopping for a new teapot.

"Bofur! You're late! Again!" Mr. Gandalf exclaimed as Bofur rushed through the door of the Coffee shop. "Whatever could have held you back this time?" the old man looked disappointedly at him from behind the counter.

Bofur smiled apologetically as he wrapped his green apron around him. "Sorry, sir." He took a tray of cups and sweets from Gandalf's outstretched hands and scurried over to the waiting table. "I got caught up in talking to Bilbo." He explained as he passed out the coffee cups to each individual.

Gandalf smiled largely at the mention of Bilbo, but frowned soon after. "Is he not with you, today?" he asked, glancing back at the entrance.

Bofur laughed as he brought the tray back to the counter. "He made his own tea tonight. Guess he lost track of time or something." He explained.

The smile returned to Gandalf's face. "Well, that's alright. It's just strange to see the two of you apart from one another. I'm so used to seeing him with you."

"Yeah. It's weird walking around without him." Bofur agreed. He quickly busied himself with taking up the cups in the sink and washing them thoroughly with plenty of dish soap.

"So what were you talking about that was occupying so much of your time?" Gandalf inquired, leaning slightly against the counter.

Bofur paused for a moment, unmoving. The water cascaded around his hands as he thought about what to tell Gandalf. He knew the old man was trustworthy, and was so fond of Bilbo, like a grandfather was fond of his grandson. "Something happened in the library today, and we were talking about it." He finally spoke, continuing with his washing.

Gandalf frowned again. "What happened?"

"Some guy came out of nowhere and grabbed him!" Bofur spun around and took up his tray again. "He was trying to get Bilbo's attention and he thought Bilbo was just being a jerk and ignoring him! Can you believe that?" he exclaimed, picking the dirty cups and trays from a recently abandoned table.

Gandalf's frown deepened. "Well, did you explain the situation?"

"Of course!" he placed the dishes in the sink and hustled back to the empty table with a wet rag in hand.

"And what did he do?"

Bofur paused for a split second before continuing wiping the table. "He seemed sorry. But I just don't know! The guy rubbed me the wrong way. And he gave Bilbo a nasty bruise." He added bitterly as an afterthought.

"Well, did he apologize?" Gandalf sounded scandalized.

"Yeah."

"To you or to Bilbo?"

"To both of us." Bofur threw the rag over his shoulder and made his way back to the counter. "And Bilbo claims that was sincere enough for him to really be sorry, but I can't believe it!" he finally calmed down his frantic working, and leaned against the counter with his head down. "I just don't want him to get hurt, you know? Big guys like that one could do anything to him. And I don't know if I could stand to see him in pain, ever." He looked up when he felt a hand rest on his back.

"All will be well, Bofur." Gandalf smiled down at him. "There is a likely chance that you might not ever see him again anyway, so what is the point in worrying? Just act like it never happened, and pretend the man doesn't even exist if it bothers you so." With that, Gandalf hobbled back to his chair and sipped at his teacup as if he was savoring every last drop.

When his shift finally ended at around ten o' clock, Bofur hung up his apron and said goodbye to Gandalf. The walk home from work was always his favorite part of the day, because it was a time that he could openly talk to Bilbo in the open, fresh air of the night. But on the rare days Bilbo didn't come with him to work, the walk home was what he dreaded. Because he felt so alone without Bilbo around. It was quiet, even though there wouldn't have been any noise if he and Bilbo were talking on the way back. But even speaking in sign language was enough to fill the silence.

His boring walk soon dragged his thoughts to what Gandalf had told him earlier. Forget about what happened? Forget about Thorin? That didn't seem likely to happen any time soon. Bofur was still seething from the encounter. He didn't like the way he looked at Bilbo. The smile he sent him before apologizing was unnerving. It didn't take an idiot to see Thorin's intentions. And the thought drove Bofur out of his mind.

All he wanted to do was keep Bilbo safe. Bilbo was the most important thing in the world to him, and was always his main priority. He would always find time for Bilbo, to take care of him, to help him, to keep him company. Hell, Bofur was the only one he could communicate with! Who else could keep him company? He just wanted Bilbo to happy and safe from all the shit in the world. He deserved the protection more than anything, or anyone.

But his mind drifted back to the scene in the library. Bilbo had blushed. Blushed at what? Why would he blush when Thorin smiled at him? What did that mean? Did it mean Bilbo liked him? How could Bilbo like him after what he did? How could Bilbo like _him_ instead of Bofur? Who had been there for him all his life? Who had taken care of him, translated lessons for him, and consoled him when his parents died? It was all Bofur! But then, Thorin comes in and now Bilbo was blushing! What was happening? And why was he thinking all these things?

Bofur stopped walking. He grabbed his head in agony and stood for a moment, slowing down the rapid thoughts in his head. He had to slow down. He was thinking into it way too much. Bilbo blushed, so what? It probably didn't mean anything. There are plenty of things that can cause people to blush. Embarrassment, cold weather, allergies… other stuff too, but those were the main ones. Bilbo didn't like Thorin! He couldn't! Not after just meeting him! Bofur would force himself to believe that. No matter what happened. Though the memory would be hard to erase from his mind, he would continue to tell himself that.

He finally reached the apartment after a forty-five minute walk. His car had been in the shop for the past few weeks, otherwise he would've taken that. Any other day, he would have walked regardless. He looked around the apartment to find it… empty. He could still smell tea wafting through the dusty air, and the T.V. was turned on, but Bilbo was nowhere to be seen. Bofur rolled his eyes. He knew instantly what had happened.

There on the couch laid Bilbo, curled up on his side and shivering under the air conditioner the couch was positioned next to. Bofur sighed deeply and shook his head as he looked down at his friend with a disapproving stare. Bilbo always managed to exhaust himself so easily; he rarely ever made it to his bed before he fell asleep wherever he happened to be at the moment in time. Bofur always told him to quit overworking himself and get some sleep, but he never listened.

Bofur gently reached down and picked his friend up with ease. It was almost scary how light Bilbo was. You would almost think he was eating as well as he was sleeping. But Bofur ignored the thought for the time being and carried Bilbo back into his room.

A small moan came from Bilbo as he was placed carefully on the bed. His eyes fluttered open to see Bofur leaning over him, covering him with the quilt his mother had made when he was younger. Bofur saw the flash of green from his eyes and immediately lifted a finger to his lips, telling Bilbo not to question and return to his dreams. Bilbo, obviously getting the message, drifted his eyes back closed and curled up underneath the quilt until comfortable.

Bofur smiled down at him, and gently ran a hand through the curly, auburn hair. Bilbo was so peaceful when sleeping. His breathing was even and deep, his eyelashes rested softly against his cheeks, and the way he was curled into a ball made him seem so much smaller and… cute. He seemed so defenseless. His auburn curls were splayed on the pillow around his head, framing his soft features. It was a beautiful sight, Bilbo sleeping. Bofur never wanted to look away.

But he had to. It was getting late, and he was growing tired. Plus, tomorrow was Friday, and he had a test coming up in his sign language class. It wasn't like he had to study or anything. He had learned sign language years ago, so he could talk to Bilbo easier. And without his translator following them around. It sooner or later led to Bilbo's parents dismissing the old interpreter and making Bofur his knew one at around the end of their high school years. But Bofur never considered himself an expert. Even after so many years, he still couldn't catch some of the things Bilbo would say to him. So he signed up for the sign language course at the University when they transferred. Thankfully, the test was just over a few simple words and phrases that Bofur knew quite well, so he was pretty sure it didn't matter how much sleep he got for the test. He would pass either way.

Hesitating for a moment, Bofur took his hand back from Bilbo's hair. He turned the lights off and closed the door on his way out, also turning out all the lights in the hallway and front room as well. When Bofur returned to his own room, he flopped down on his bed with a heavy sigh, and closed his eyes willing himself to fall asleep. But the only thing that his mind did that night was picture things; Bilbo sleeping like an angel, having Bilbo reading at the coffee shop while he worked, and him and Bilbo falling asleep on the couch together on studying nights.

Needless to say, Bofur didn't get as much sleep as Bilbo did that night.


End file.
